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This post was written in my habit of being hard on myself (and others). It contains my thinking about the way I see the world, about ideas I have which are not necessarily right, and they don’t make me look that good. Its subject matter is stranger assault, so if that’s not what you can handle reading about, then skip it.

I was riding the bus home the other night, the ride was cold after a hot night of lovemaking. It’s not a long ride but it takes two buses to get my from my lover’s home to my own. I thought I was presenting pretty butch that night, with my pants low, my running shoes, and a boxy pinstripe jacket. My face was hidden in a scarf and hat which I left on in the bus. I felt good, was I maybe swaggering a bit? Getting on my second bus, I met for an instant the eyes of a man who was sitting beside me on the long seats at the back of the bus, a few feet away. I didn’t look right at him the rest of the ride but I sensed his attention was on me. I was not interested in him; he looked not quite sober. A bit drunk? A bit outside of my reality somehow? Read more…